


Hunkle Stan

by PickledDeath



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: De-Aged, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickledDeath/pseuds/PickledDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grunkle Stan ingests a youth potion that Dipper found out in the woods and has to deal with the consequences. They are pretty good circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunkle Stan

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a kinkmeme fill. The original prompt is below:  
> "hunkle stan. give me some stan please that would be great. I’d prefer it solo, but if you’ve got to do a pairing, please skip the incest thank"

When Stan came back to consciousness his vision was bleary, but he could make out people standing above him looking down at him. Their voices swam in and out of his mind, but he heard his name and knew they were talking about him.

"Step back, guys! I think he's waking up," a female voice said plaintively. The other indistinct figures stepped back hesitantly.

Deciding that he couldn't lie on the ground trying to sort himself out for much longer, Stan struggled into a sitting position and rubbed at his aching head.

"Grunkle Stan, is that you?" a high pitched voice asked, strained with worry.

"Here, I think you dropped these," another similar sounding voice said from his elbow before pushing his glasses into his hands.

"Thanks, kid," Stan grumbled, recognizing the twins' voices first. He shoved his glasses onto his face inelegantly and blinked heavily at everyone ranged around him.

Dipper, Mabel, Wendy and even Soos were all ranged around him with varying expressions of worry and concern.

"What are you chumps looking at?" Stan groused. "What was in that stupid bottle?"

The others glanced nervously at each other, but it was Dipper that answered first. "From the looks of it, that was a youth potion," he deadpanned.

"A what?" Stan snapped. "Kid, there's no such thing! Trust me, if there was, I would know about it," Stan complained as he struggled to his feet. As he did so, he did notice that his clothes fit a lot differently than he remembered. His jacket was tight across his shoulders and his girdle was loose around his waist, which was probably the most surprising thing.

"Tell that to your new face," Wendy said, pulling a compact mirror from her back pocket and handing it to Stan.

Stan held the tiny pocket mirror up in front of him and watched his own eyes widen at what he saw. Looking back at him was a face he hadn't seen in thirty years. His own youthful visage.

"Holy humongous hamburgers!" he yelled, tossing the mirror away from him like it was red hot. Wendy almost fumbled it, but managed to snatch it out of the air. "How did this happen?!" Stan demanded, looking down at Dipper.

The kid sighed, looking put out, but explained, "Like I said, I think that was a youth potion."

"Where did you even find such a thing?" Stan demanded.

"I dunno. Out in the woods, like everything else I find!" Dipper threw back. "I told you not to drink it," he grumbled.

"You're grounded, kid!" Stan yelled.

"What?!" Dipper yelped. "I didn't do anything!"

"I don't want to hear it! Both of you, up to your rooms!" When the two twins looked up at their grunkle despondently, he raised his voice and said again, "Go!"

The two kids slowly started to shuffle up the steps to their attic room while Soos and Wendy did their best impressions of marble statues.

"Both of you, get out of here! Work is done for today," Stan griped, waving the two employees out of his living room.

"Yes, sir," Soos and Wendy mumbled as they moved out toward the shop front and out to their cars as slowly and sadly as the twins.

Stan was left alone in the living room in an ill fitting suit and no idea what to do. How did he fix this mess? He roughly rubbed his palms (somehow smoother than he was used to) against his face and slowly made his way to the vending machine and his hidden lab below.

* * *

It was hours later and Stan was pretty sure that he had found his answer. There was a book he had found from the 1700s, around the time that Gravity Falls was founded, that suggested there was a witch that lived deep in the woods and brewed all manner of useful and terrible potions. That same book implied that, while the potions were amazing in their effects, they were also usually pretty short lived. They usually only lasted about twenty four hours.

That took a huge weight off of Stan's shoulders. He definitely didn't need the kind of attention that suddenly chopping thirty years off of his appearance would bring. That kind of scrutiny lead to questions and questions often lead to the kinds of answers he just couldn't provide.

With the pressure off, Stan allowed himself to start to contemplate what his new youth might mean.

Standing up from the table strewn with open books and notes, Stan stretched and noted that he wasn't nearly as stiff as he expected to be. He rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly, looking down at the mess of books and papers, before walking to the small bathroom shoved into the corner of the lab.

He ran the water and splashed his face with it, trying to wake himself up. It was probably the wee hours of the morning by then, but he didn't feel as tired as he would have expected either. He supposed he owed his unfamiliar wellness to his newly found youth.

Stan stared at himself in the mirror. He had almost forgotten how he used to look.

The potion had reverted him from the crotchety old con man he had been back into who he was as a young man. After his awkward teenage years, but before a life of criminal enterprise had worn him down.

His hair was thick, black and wavy. His eyebrows were thick and dark too, along with a small amount of sideburn that he forgot he used to let grow out when he was younger. They accentuated his strong square jaw, still lined with stubble. His nose was straight again and sharper, not as mashed in and bent as he was used too. His eyes even looked more alive, sharper and smarter.

This was him in his prime.

Stan never considered himself a vain man. He kept up a certain level of appearance for the sake of the job. But, looking at himself now... Damn. He looked good.

It wasn't just his face either. His stomach was tight and flat again, same with his chest, butt, arms, everything! Everything was taught, toned, and where it should be. Same with his body hair. It no longer sprang from his back and ears. His arms still had a healthy coat of coarse black hair, as did his chest running down to the top of his crotch, but other than that the rest of his body hair was negligible.

He knew he should do something while his youth lasted. He couldn't let this rare window back into his own past close without taking advantage of it.

He briefly considered going out to a bar and trying to pick someone up, but quickly dismissed it as too dangerous. Someone might recognize him or the potion may wear off before he sealed the deal. Besides, he couldn't leave the kids at the shack alone.

Solo it was then.

Stan took the elevator back up topside and quietly stole out from behind the vending machine and back to his room. Once there, he awkwardly sat on the edge of his bed and tapped his hands on his thighs. It had been a while since he had done something like this.

Deciding to try and make the best use of his new body, Stan stood up and moved the full length mirror shoved in the corner of his room out from behind some boxes. He sat it down in front of the bed, adjusting it so that he could easily see himself while sitting on the edge of the bed. Then, he stripped everything off: shirt, pants, boxers, socks. Everything.

He sat nervously in front of the mirror and was struck again by how different he looked. How handsome. He didn't remember looking so good or, at least, being aware of looking so good. But, then, maybe that was part of youth. To be oblivious to things like appearance and the ravages aging might wage against you.

Hesitantly, Stan ran his hand over his chest and the Stan in the mirror did the same. Stan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

He ran his hand back and forth over his chest a few times before pushing it down his tight stomach and into the thatch of thick curly black pubic hair in his groin. He ran his fingers through the hair there for a while, savoring that feeling too, his dick already thickening in anticipation against his thigh.

Wanting to draw things out, Stan passed his dick completely, reaching down to fondle and squeeze his balls. He let out a ragged breath and spread his legs a little further at the sensation that left.

He took a deep breath in and out through his nose and met his own eyes in the mirror before slowly grasping himself at his base. He bit back a moan, still very aware that the kids were sleeping somewhere above him.

He was fully hard now, precome leaking from his head and down over his fingers. Stan gave himself a warning squeeze before running his hand up and over his head, smearing the precome over his dick and giving himself some lubrication.

He started in on himself in earnest then, moving his hand steadily up and down his length. Just like he always had, he squeezed on the way up and made a point of catching the edge of his head with his thumb on the way down.

Within a few minutes he was panting heavily, his chest heaving as his hand moved faster and faster over himself. Stan pushed himself to look at himself in the mirror again.

His legs were splayed wide now, the flesh of his thighs pale and straining with each pull of his hand. His dick was slick, red and getting darker. The head shone wetly as it appeared from behind his hand every few seconds. His nipples were hard, dark like his lips that he must have been licking without realizing it. His brows were drawn down low over his eyes.

The sight of himself was enough. With a strangled groan, Stan came hard, jizz shooting from the end of his dick to land on his lower belly and pool in his belly button.

He allowed himself to fall backward onto the bed with his feet still on the floor, the mirror still watching him silently. He felt completely wrung out. Stan couldn't remember the last time he had come that hard.

Absently, Stan grabbed the edge of his blanket and wiped himself off before struggling up to lay on the bed properly. He barely had the presence of mind to pull the blanket up to his waist in case the kids came in during the night before he passed out, his body still humming with pleasure.

* * *

The next morning, Stan woke up to the sun struggling past his blinds and onto the bed. He grumbled at the audacity of the thing before finally allowing the light to push him out of bed.

Stan grabbed a pair of boxers that he was pretty sure were still clean off the floor and struggled into them. His legs were oddly wobbly, but he didn't bother to put thought into why. He then grabbed a wife beater off the back of a chair that he was sure was not clean, but didn't care enough to look for another one.

He pulled the shirt over his head and plucked his glasses and fez off his night table. He struggled to put all three on while making his way down the hall to the kitchen.

"Grunkle Stan!" an excited voice called to him from the kitchen table.

Stan grumbled something that wasn't really any word or combination of words as he made his way over to the coffee machine.

"I see that you're back to normal," a far less excited voice commented from behind him.

Suddenly, it all came crashing back to Stan. The potion, the research and the fulfilling conclusion to his night. Frowning, Stan picked up the spoon he had been ready to use to stir his coffee and held it up to his face. Sure enough, his own normal face, wrinkled and tired, bent nose and all, stared back at him.

"Huh. So I am," Stan grunted, pointedly dropping his spoon into his coffee. There was an empty spot yawning wide in his chest, but he ignored it.

"Aw!" Mabel moaned. "That sucks, right? I miss young Grunkle Stan. He was sort of a hunk!" she exclaimed.

Stan didn't turn around, glad to have an excuse not to face the kids. He was afraid his expression would betray that he felt the same way.

"Ugh, Mabel," Dipper complained.

"Hunkle Stan!" Mabel exclaimed with a giggle.

Stan would miss Hunkle Stan too, but was glad for what little time he had with him. The night was worth it, anyway.


End file.
